


Storm

by The_shadows_of_my_mind



Category: Les Miserables
Genre: Fluff, Kisses, M/M, One-Shot, Pining, Snow, kinda angst, request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-16 00:39:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5806561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_shadows_of_my_mind/pseuds/The_shadows_of_my_mind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>squidspice requested: Maybe some e/R kisses in the snow?</p>
<p>Grantaire should have stayed put. Enjolras was a grown man and a storm had never really worried the man before. So why was this one any different?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Storm

**Author's Note:**

> This was no where near as fluff as I wanted it to be originally and I hope it's okay (I'll make it up somehow, promise!)

Grantaire sat at his table near the window, watching the storm outside as he drank. There was no one on the café Musain's upper floor apart from himself and the blond scribbling away at his notes a few tables away.

Enjolras seemed oblivious to the storm outside, no doubt focused on whatever it was he'd decided was worth his time this week. Grantaire snorted and took a slow sip of his wine, a slight grimace crossing his features as a strong gust blew more snow against the window.

"You'd best leave soon, Apollo." He found himself saying, looking over to Enjolras who only now seemed to be separating himself from his work.

"Why do you say that?" He asked, frowning in confusion. Grantaire simply pointed to the mound of snow sitting on the window sill, raising an eyebrow and daring the other man to argue. Enjolras eyed the snow for a moment, and Grantaire could see that the other student was thinking about staying. With a heavy sigh, Grantaire pushed himself to his feet and crossed over to Enjolras' table.

"Come on, up with you." He said, gathering the papers that were scattered haphazardly over the table and putting them into little piles. Enjolras could sort through them later he figured. The blond stepped back, surprised that Grantaire had come near him, never mind dared to touch his papers. With a defeated sigh, he began to gather the rest of the papers, slipping them carefully back into his bag.

Finally turning his full attention to the storm outside, he seemed to hesitate while pulling on his coat. Grantaire caught the hesitation and smirked slightly, taking another long sip from his wine.

"Something the matter, Enjolras?" He asked, leaning casually against the table as hail began to hammer against the window. Enjolras blinked from his thoughts and shook his head, hurriedly doing up the rest of the buttons on his coat and slinging his bag over his shoulder.

"Nothing at all." He replied bluntly, heading towards the stairs. Grantaire followed a few steps behind. He stopped as Enjolras paused at the door, a gloved hand resting on the handle. He looked over his shoulder and tilted his head, frowning in confusion.

"Yes?" He hummed.

Grantaire merely shrugged and offered an incomprehensible noise in replace of a true answer. Enjolras huffed and rolled his eyes, turning back to the door and pushing it open. The blast of cold air made him stumble, having caught the young man off guard. He shook himself out and after a final check that he had everything, he pushed out into the cold and began to trudge his way home.

Grantaire watched the door swing shut behind him, trying to keep an eye on Enjolras through the windows on the ground floor. It was becoming harder and harder for him to make out anything in the snow, the storm growing worse and worse by the moment. He began to feel a slight uncertainty in the pit of his stomach.

When a few more sips of wine did nothing to dull the feeling, he cursed and set the bottle down. He hurried up the stairs, pulling on his own tatted coat on before hurrying out into the cold.

"Enjolras!" He called, pulling the collar of his jacket up to cover his ears. It was difficult to make out anything in the storm, and twice he'd nearly fallen after tripping over a discarded object. At least, he hoped it was just inanimate objects buried under the growing blanket of snow.

"Enjolras!" He called again, squinting against the cold that bit at every exposed bit of his flesh. He heard what sounded like a faint call of his name and turned, searching for its source.

Out of the blizzard, Enjolras trudged over to him, already shivering despite his layers of clothing.

"What are you doing out here?" He demanded through chattering teeth, looking up to Grantaire with a small frown.

"Making sure you didn't get buried." Grantaire shrugged innocently, trying to conceal his worry beneath a smirk. "Goodness knows you tend to wander at night."

To his surprise, Enjolras laughed and moved in closer, rubbing at his arms and shrugging. "Yes, usually. But certainly not tonight." He said, beginning to walk down the street again. Grantaire hurried to catch up, falling into step beside Enjolras and looking over to the man with a slight frown.

The tips of Enjolras' ears and nose were already a bright red, his hair either stuck to his face or frozen at an odd angle by the snow. He continued to shiver, shoulders hunched up to try and preserve warmth. Grantaire huffed softly and wrapped an arm around Enjolras' shoulders, drawing him in close.

"Relax," he sighed at the man's noise of protest, "I don't want to have to drag you half frozen up the steps of your flat." He could feel Enjolras relax slightly, though he knew the man was still tense and rather uncertain of the situation.

The pair walked in silence for a few blocks, Enjolras huddled up to Grantaire's side and the drunkard doing his best to try and keep them both upright.  All the while he tried to ignore the chattering coming from Enjolras' teeth, the noise both irritating and worrying him.

"Here we are." Enjolras said, startling Grantaire out of his thoughts. The drunkard looked up, surprised to find that they were already standing outside Enjolras' flat. The snow and wind had let up, allowing Grantaire to actually see what a pitiful state Enjolras had ended up in.

His coat was soaked clean through, his cheeks and lips a bright red and his hair flattened down from its usual god-like glory. He released the blond once he remembered that they'd arrived and that Enjolras wouldn't freeze in the few steps it took to get into his flat. His teeth still chattered though, and Grantaire couldn't help himself when he stepped nearer again.

"Grantaire, I told you, I'm fin-" Enjolras' final word was cut off when Grantaire wrapped an arm around his waist and drew him close. Before either could speak, Grantaire leaned in and pressed their lips together. Enjolras wiggled in protest for a moment before he stilled and hummed, relaxing and finding himself returning the kiss.

And just as quickly as it had started, it was over.

Grantaire stepped back, eyes wide and cheeks bright red, though it wasn't from the cold. Enjolras stumbled as Grantaire released him, looking up with a small frown.

"Grantaire?"

The drunkard stared at him a moment longer, the brief kiss already replaying time and time again in his mind. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and turned away. He hurried down the street and tried to ignore the burning shame he felt.

"Grantaire!" Enjolras called after him, reaching forward to try and grab the retreating man's sleeve. Grantaire jerked his arm free and shook his head, fighting to keep his voice under control.

"Go inside, Enjolras...it's still cold out here." He said, voice much weaker than he would have liked it to have been. Without looking back he picked up his pace, jogging as best he could over the snow covered ground.

Enjolras stood at the door to his flat, staring off in the direction that Grantaire had run. He lifted a hand and brushed his fingers over his still tingling lips. Thoughtful as he turned and hurried into the warmth of his flat.


End file.
